


And The Moon Turned Her Face

by Liz2010



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Graphic Description, Unhappy Ending, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 17:01:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18525811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz2010/pseuds/Liz2010
Summary: “Listen to me” Derek thundered, eyes flashing red as he beta-shifted without a thought, only keeping control by the skin of his teeth. “Your going to tell me where you are. You’re going to take the fucking Bite like you should have done the moment we knew the alpha pack was in town. Then you and I are going to go out on a damn date like we should have been all along. I’m never going to let anything happen to you again.”Stiles makes a phone call and Derek's life changes in the worst way possible.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the Teen wolf characters or any other entities. Not Beta read and all errors are my own.
> 
> I don't know why I wrote this. I started writing a hurt Stiles story and it spiraled. Read at your own risk and mind the tags. This is not a happy story.

Derek woke up annoyed. The plastic piece of shit he called a phone that he bought at the gas station one night was ringing. He had given up on buying nice ones. They just didn’t last with the werewolf lifestyle. 

The ringing continued, an obnoxious noise that cut into Derek’s sensitive ears, made all the worse in the silence of the loft. Isaac had stayed at Scott's, so had Stiles. Peter was supposed to be out on patrol, but who knew what he was actually doing. Erica and Boyd were still missing and with each passing day, Derek lost a little bit more hope of ever finding them.

He wanted to roll over and ignore it. He had just gotten to bed and his body was screaming for sleep. He had spent all day and into the night the way the way he always did, searching the town of any sign of Alpha pack. There hadn’t been. They never was. No sign of Erica or Boyd either. 

There was only the full moon on his neck, prickling it in an uneasiness he had never felt before. Like the goddess herself had turned her back on them. But that couldn’t be. The moon had never let Derek down before. She had always been there, a steady presence in a world of loss.

He needed to get the phone. He was the alpha, after all, and it could be important. He grabbed it off the floor where it was charging.

Stiles’ number was flashing on the screen, along with a picture of the teen with corn chips on his fingers, pretending they were claws. It was wildly offensive, but Derek didn’t take it off. 

Stiles was the only one who’s number had a picture. Only because Stiles kept stealing his phone to change things on it, but still. None of the rest of the pact even cared that Derek had a phone. They never called. They only texted when they needed something. 

Stiles called though. When he couldn’t sleep because his house was too quiet or when he was on an Adderall binge and full of random information that he couldn’t keep in his head. Usually Derek didn’t mind letting him prattle on until one of them passed out. It was soothing in away, and it made his chest feel just a little bit less tight. 

Because he liked Stiles, he really did. He liked the way he talked, the way he made himself comfortable wherever he was, the way he pretended to be a self-absorbed teenage, but really cared more about everyone else than himself and showed it in the fierce way he protected his friends. 

But not tonight. He wasn’t in the mood for Stiles. He was frustrated and tired, but his wolf kept pacing in his chest. Something was going to happen. Soon.

“What Stiles.” Derek’s voice was rough with sleep and he didn’t even bother to sit up. 

“Hey Derek.” Stiles’ voice was the fake kind of happy he did when he was upset, the kind of fake that Derek hated. “I need a favor from my wonderful friend. I need you to promise to do something for me.”

That was wrong. They weren’t friends. They were pack, sure, and they did their weird little dance that wasn’t quite flirting, so shut up Isaac before I break your face, but they weren’t friends. They didn’t go to movies or to get burgers. They just talked on the phone sometimes. For some reason, probably because he was so fucking tired, the knowledge pissed him off and he lashed out.

“Shouldn’t you call Scott for that, or one of your other little friends. Hell, if you’re drunk, call your dad. He’ll take you home and maybe you’ll learn something about responsibility.”

Derek didn’t really think Stiles was drunk. He wasn’t slurring quite enough for that. He wouldn’t be alone if he were at a party anyway. Scott or one of the others would be there. The wolves couldn’t get drunk and so Stiles wouldn’t need a ride.

More likely his jeep had broken down somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be and he needed a lift. Derek would give him one because there was no way he was leaving Stiles if he needed help, but he wanted to make sure Stiles didn’t think he was happy about it.

“Fuck you, I’m not calling my dad.” Stiles’ voice was flat, overreacting more than usual. Derek growled in the phone at the tone and Stiles attitude turned fake again. “Okay, my mistake. Poor word choice. I need a favor from my alpha.”

The wolf in Derek howled from the pleasure of the phrase. Not an alpha, but mine. My alpha. Not one of the pack had used the phrase yet, not even Isaac. Derek tried to ignore it, telling himself they needed time to adjust. It still hurt.

Derek quieted his wolf to focus on the conversation, even as it preened. He could be Stiles’. They could be each other’s. It wouldn’t even be that hard to move from this awkward dance into something more. He knew Stiles wanted more. He could smell the pheromones on him when they sat on the couch, legs just barley touching. 

Derek wanted more too. He wanted everything. He wanted his mate.

Derek signed into the phone, but he was fighting back a smile as he rolled out of bed. “Where are you?”

He was only in boxers and he searched the floor for sweatpants and a shirt. He didn’t have to look nice just to pick up a teenager. He found some that’s weren’t too smelly and pulled them on.

“I’m not telling you that until you promise.”

Derek froze for a split second. He didn’t like the sound of that that. He didn’t like that at all. He jerked on a pair of shoes as he searched for his keys. They had been in his coat pocket, but now they weren’t.

“Stiles.” He said careful to keep his voice neutral. “Where are you?”

“Promise first.” Stiles’ voice wasn’t fake now. It was serious, more serious than the teen ever was, and it was making Derek nervous.

God damn it, where were his keys? He needed to be out there helping Stiles right fucking now. There wasn’t time for this. 

He was about to give up and just hotwire the damn car when he found them on the floor by his phone charger. He ran out the apartment and jumped down flight after flight of stairs, cursing the fact that he had to live on the top floor. 

There was a gasp then the wet sound of coughing on the other end of the phone as he ran. Derek’s fangs threatened to pop out. He fought to keep the shift under control. Stiles couldn’t be able to understand him with a mouth full of elongated teeth. 

“Stiles okay. I will. Just tell me where you are.”

The unhealthy noise of someone struggling for breath was the only response. Derek slid into his car, not waiting for the door to fully close before driving off.

Derek took a deep breath of his own, his sharp nails slicing up the leather of his steering wheel. He needed to focus and the sounds of his packmate in trouble was making it hard.

He gripped the phone just a little tighter and listened with all his enhanced ability. He could hear Stiles’ heart beating way too fast and his wheezing breathes. Neither of those was a good thing, but he couldn’t fix it till he figured out where he was. He listened past his struggling packmate.

He didn’t hear traffic, like he would if Stiles was on the side of the road. He didn’t hear music or people, like he was at a party. 

He heard the chilly breeze of the night rustling through treetops. He heard crickets and the occasional frog. He heard the leaves crackle under Stiles as he shifted. Derek took a sharp turn to race out of town. He could be there in ten minutes if he sped. 

“The woods. You’re in the preserve.”

“You promise Der?” Stiles’ voice was rough now, like his coughing had destroyed his throat. 

He sounded beautiful. The fact that he was saying anything was the only thing keeping Derek from shifting fully and losing control while driving 90 down the highway.

“Yes. Whatever you want Stiles, I promise.” He needed to keep the human talking. He needed to keep him awake. “What do you want me to do?”

“I need you to find me before my dad. I need you to clean me up before he sees. If he sees my body like this, it will kill him.”

Body. Oh God, find his body. No. Derek refused to think about it.

“No, I’ll find you. You’re going to be fine.”

“You can’t help me on this one sourwolf.” There was the cough again and it sounded so much worse to Derek now that he was sure it was the sound of blood filling his lungs. 

“Listen to me” Derek thundered, eyes flashing red as he beta-shifted without a thought, only keeping control by the skin of his teeth. “Your going to tell me where you are. You’re going to take the fucking Bite like you should have done the moment we knew the alpha pack was in town. Then you and I are going to go out on a damn date like we should have been all along. I’m never going to let anything happen to you again.”

Stiles chuckled humorlessly, a hideous parity of its normal sound that put butterflies in Derek’s stomach. “I knew you liked me. That all sounds nice. So nice, Der. But I think it might be a little too late.”

“You don’t know. You don’t know what the Bite can do. It can save you, I promise.”

“Derek, it can’t.”

“Why the hell not Stiles?” God, even hurt alone and bleeding the teen was arguing with him.

“Because I’m holding my guts in my hand.”

Derek’s stomach dropped and he went cold.

“I’m already dead. They knew it. That’s why they didn’t bother taking the phone. My mind just hasn’t caught up with my body yet.”

The fucking Alphas had done this, they had hurt Stiles. Derek was whining like a hurt pup, but he couldn’t help it. Stiles had to be fine. He was always fine, brushing off his injuries with a smile and a laugh. 

“Just tell me where you are” he begged. 

“They crashed into me right at mile marker 22. We went into the trees, maybe walked 20 minutes. There’s nothing here just trees. It’s cold here Derek. I’m by myself.” 

Stiles was starting to sound unfocused, his words trailing together into mush. Derek was at mile marker 15. He was so fucking close.

“I’m almost there, I promise. I’m going to save you. Just hold on Stiles.”

“You’re going to have to get rid of your phone. Your name’s not in mine, just your number. If the police find out this was my last call, they’ll arrest you for sure.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Just stay calm.”

“No, listen. You need to take out the battery and the SIM card. Break them all into pieces and scatter them. You can’t take the blame for this.”

Stiles was using his last breaths trying to protect him. Derek felt numb. 

“Alright. I will once you’re healing. I will.”

“I’m all alone Derek. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I’m coming. I promise, you’re not alone.” 

Derek could hear the blood in Stiles throat now, not just his chest. It was gurgling with every breath and his heartbeat was too damn fast but even through the phone, Derek could hear it getting weaker.

He passed mile marker 21 when he saw the familiar blue jeep. Derek slammed on the breaks and threw himself out of the car.

The jeep’s front end was crumpled like it had been hit head on. Glass sparked on the pavement in the cold moonlight. The door had been torn off its hinges and Derek could smell blood. He was furious that someone could do this to his pack, to Stiles, but there was no time for anger. He was a human to find.

Stiles had been quiet for too long.

“Stiles, how are you feeling? Say something.”

The pause was long, and Derek had just started to panic when Stiles answered.

“ ‘s cold.” He was slurring badly now. “Can I go home now?”

“Yes. Yes baby, anything you want. I’m almost there. Just hold on a little longer.”

Derek sniffed, trying to catch a trail, but the it smelled like the alphas grabbed Stiles then just disappeared. There was no clear trail. Derek picked a direction and started running.

“I didn’t tell them anything. Derek. I swear. I didn’t.”

Derek wouldn’t have cared if he did. He was human, he wasn’t meant to be part of this. He wished Stiles had sent the whole alpha pack to his apartment rather than be in these woods looking for his broken, bleeding body.

“I know you didn’t. You did so good.”

Stiles’ voice was getting quieter and his ragged gurgling was making it hard to understand words. 

“Just hold on. I’m going to find you.”

There was a gasp and a horrible retching noise that had Derek freezing mid-step, terrified that he was hearing him choke to death. 

“Stiles!”

The human moaned and the was the sound of something wet hitting the ground. Derek was about to lose his mind when Stiles finally spoke again, soft and broken.

“I’m sorry. I should have called Scott. I’m sorry. It couldn’t be my dad. I couldn’t.”

Calling Scott would have been the worst thing he could have done. They would have lost time as Scott panicked, then called Derek anyway. Besides, Scott couldn’t give him the bite like Derek could.

“No. It should always be me. I’m your alpha. You can always call me.”

“My alpha.” It sounded like a prayer, just barely audible through the wet, bloody breaths. “ Tell them I love them. All of them. You too. I always loved you.”

There was a thud and the line when dead. Stiles must have dropped the phone. Derek didn’t allow his brain to think of any other reason the for the silence. Derek shouted into the phone for him a few times, before giving up and shoving his cell in his pocket and taking off in the trees desperately searching for a scent. 

It took him far too long to find the trail. The alphas had experience hiding their tracks. 

It took even longer to find Stiles. They had taken him miles from the road. If it had been cops searching near the crash, they wouldn’t have found him for days.

Derek knew the second he reached the moon soaked clearing that he was too late. The sharp smell of iron was everywhere, and it was silent save for the chirping of crickets.

There wasn’t the sound of a heartbeat. 

It didn’t stop Derek from sprinting to the still form laying curled up on the ground, hoping that he was wrong, that his senses had been tricked.

Stiles was on his right side, one leg clearly broken and the other missing a shoe. One arm was pinned under him clutching at his stomach. The other was outstretched, all its fingers broken. His shirt was in tatters and there were deep gashes across his back. The phone lay beside him where he had dropped it, its screen smeared with blood.

“Stiles.” Derek sobbed. This was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him. He was human. He wasn’t part of this. 

Derek reached out with shaking hands to pull Stiles onto his back, shuttering at the coolness of his skin, needing to see his face, to see that he was really gone. What he saw had him turning to the side to vomit, tears burning his eyes. It was a long moment before he could look again.

Stiles had been tortured. The alphas had grabbed him and hurt him in the worst ways, then left him here alone to die.

His chest had been destroyed. Claw marks had shredded almost every inch visible. Skin had been torn off in long strips, something only a wolf would have been strong enough to do. 

The worst of it was that Stiles had been right. His stomach had been ripped open and his insides pulled out. His pinned hand had been holding then in. When Derek had moved the body, they twisted out onto the forest floor.

Derek’s mind snapped and everything went quiet. Derek was shaking so fucking hard he could barely stay upright. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He could only stare at the lifeless body. 

He was in shock. He knew that, in some part of his brain, but he couldn’t do anything about it. His eyes just kept roaming the body of the boy he could have loved, that he had loved, looking at the wounds that another wolf had caused. Wounds that were Derek’s fault. 

Stiles’ face was almost unmarked and Derek’s trembling fingers traced over its cold cheeks. Only a small bruise high on his cheekbone showed. His skin was blue and dried blood coated his lips. His eyes were closed. 

The Bite never would have saved him.

Derek pulled the broken body against himself and howled at the moon he had always loved, the one that had watched this all happened and done nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

The moon was low when Derek finally stood up. His clothes were damp and stiff with dried blood that had soaked him while he rocked the still body in his arms.

Derek started walking, the body heavy and still in his arms. 

He didn’t let himself think. If he thought, his mind would break into a million pieces. He could start screaming, and never stop. He didn’t have a plan. He just moved. Trees passed by as he feet carried him to town, the moon hidden by clouds casting the world into darkness.

He was at the hospital before he realized he had decided to go there. He walked numbly through the automatic doors and into the ER without anyone stopping him. He caught a familiar scent and walked mindlessly towards it. 

Melissa McCall was remaking a bed in an empty room, her back to the door. 

“Help me.” Derek rasped and she turned, hand on her heart, eyes wide in surprise. 

It took her a moment for her mind to catch up to her eyes, a moment to realize she knew not only the man carrying a body, but also the body. She went into emergency mode.

“Put him down.” She ordered the wolf as she ran to the hall, yelling for help.

“Call a code. I need some help in here!” 

Derek couldn’t put down the heavy weight in his arms. It was the only think keeping him upright. He could only stare at the slack face that should have been full of life.

Nurses and orderlies swarmed it. He snarled as one of them pulled the body from his arms onto the bed. Only Melissa’s hands on his arms kept him from slashing at them with his extending claws. They laid him on the bed and got to work. 

Melissa let go of Derek and started CPA while another nurse tried to put in an IV. Someone gasped when they saw the gaping wound in his stomach, then the room when silent, save for Melissa still pumping his chest. Both the orderly and the other nurse stepped away, but Melissa didn’t stop trying to get his heart beating again, yelling at the others to help her. Derek heard ribs snap. 

Derek stood to the side, claws buried in his palms, and tried not to cry.

A doctor finally walked in, looking confused by the commotion around the body on the bed. He calmly felt for a pulse on the body’s throat before shrugging almost coldly. 

“Time of death, 2:35am.”

“No.” Derek didn’t know Melissa couldn’t sound like that. “No. You didn’t even try.”

The doctor eyes were kind, but his tone was flat. “He’s been gone awhile.”

Something clicked in her expression and her arms stopped pumping at the body. 

“I’m sorry.”

The room slowly cleared as Melissa and Derek just stood.

“Fuck.” She said tipping a tray of instruments into the floor with a clatter that made Derek flinch. “Fuck!”

Melissa rounded on Derek. “What the hell happened? Is Scott okay? Where is he? Where are they?” 

“I don’t know. They weren’t there. He was alone. Stiles was alone.”

“I have to call them. Make sure they’re alright.” Melissa’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh my God. I have to call his dad.”

His dad.

“He can’t see this. I promised. Stiles made me promise.”

“You’re right.” Melissa was looking at the broken body again, eyes staring in horror at the wounds. “Fuck. You’re right. Just…give me a second.”

Derek heard her walk away and pull out her phone. He heard her call her son and make sure he was alright, before telling him she loved him and hanging up before Scott could ask any questions. She didn’t say anything about the body of his best friend that was stiffening even as they spoke.

Derek listened to her sob like it was her kid lying on the bed.

She came back in after a minute, an hour, a day, Derek had no idea, eyes red but tears no longer flowing. 

“Help me” she ordered. 

They used rubbing alcohol to clean the blood off his face and chest as best they could. Melissa straitened his broken fingers and pulled his leg strait. Derek held the body upright while Melissa wrapped gauze around his chest, the only way she could think of to try to hide the damage there. When they were done, he could almost be sleeping, if not for the sick grey color of his skin. Melissa stroked his hand for a long time, before looking up at Derek. 

“Let’s get you some fresh clothes.”

One of the orderlies let him a shirt. He had to borrow hospital scrubs for pants. He stripped out of the blood covered clothes and left them in a pile on the bathroom floor, unwilling to touch them even to throw them away.

He missed Melissa calling John. He was glad of that, at least. But he didn’t miss the Sheriff running frantically into the ER. He had just left the bathroom as the John barreled through the doors.

“Where’s my son?” he demanded, frantic. “Where is he?”

“John” Melissa was there, waiting. The expression was one that Derek had seen before, when the police came to school to tell him his whole family was dead. 

The Sheriff knew what that face meant too. He wailed a hopeless noise that would haunt Derek forever. He fell to his knees, Melissa grabbing him before he could face plant, as they both collapsed, her thin body unable to support his weight. He sobbed hopelessly, uncaring who saw, screaming for his child who was already gone.

Derek left after that. He didn’t want too see John clutch the body, unable to understand what had happened. He didn’t want to have to explain that it was his fault, that he had been too slow, that if he had been quicker, better, stronger, none of this would have happened. 

He destroyed the phone as promised as he walked home, breaking it into pieces with his bare hands. He bled, the plastic cutting him, but he couldn’t feel it. He didn’t feel anything. He went back to his empty loft and stared at the wall until he finally was blessed with sleep.

\-----  
The funeral was awful. It was the first time Derek had left the loft since it happened. It was sunny and warm, a fucking mockery of what was happening. 

The casket was open for the memorial. Derek refused to walk by it. He had already said his goodbyes. He stood in the back, arms crossed and looking murderous, trying not to puke.

He went to the cemetery for the burial. He wasn’t ready to leave the body, even if he didn’t want to see it. The whole pack did. Isaac stood in the back with him, eyes flashing every time he looked up, his control shaky at best. Derek handed him a pair of sunglasses but didn’t make him leave. Lydia and Allison sat near the front, clutching each other and crying, makeup smearing. Scott sat with his mom, eyes red and shaking so bad Derek worried he would collapse. 

Scott hadn’t been doing well. He didn’t lose control like Derek had feared might happen. In fact, he couldn’t shift at all now. Not even when Derek yelled at him, eyes red and face shifted, demanding to know what Stiles was doing driving home alone in the first place. 

The casket was lowered, and Derek just felt numb. The Sheriff howled and no one could comfort him as he mourned, clutching at the dirt that now held his son. Derek pulled on Isaac’s arm, feeling like he was invading something far to private. They went home at a cold and empty loft.  
\-----  
It was Peter, of all people, who pushed Derek back into action. He hadn’t said a word when Derek told him Stiles had been murdered. His face just went blank and he turned and walked back out the door he had just sauntered in. He didn’t show up for the funeral or in the days of numbness and inaction that came after.

It was nearly a week later when he showed up, with three betas in tow. 

“Here.” Peter snarled, shoving a beaten and bleeding Erica into his Derek’s arms. 

Derek couldn’t absorb it. Erica and Boyd were here, safe, and Peter and rescued them. Peter was bleeding too, Derek belatedly noticed. His nose caught up with his mind and he realized who the third beta was.

“Cora?”

“Deaton’s on his way.” Peter collapsed on the couch. 

\----  
Peter had saved them, yes, but he hadn’t managed to kill any of the alphas. But they hadn’t been quiet about their intentions around their captives.

“They want you Derek. They want you to kill us all and join them.” Erica said, huddled up close to Boyd on the couch. They were alright, relatively speaking, and had refused to go home.

“OK.” He replied, still watching his sister who was being looked over by Deaton.

“OK?” Erica snarled. “What the fuck Derek? We’ve been missing, being tortured for weeks and that’s all you can manage? Who the hell died and broke you?”

There was a moment of harsh silence so tight Derek could barely breathe.

“Stiles.”

Erica jerked back like she had been hit. Her face tightened as she burst into tears, the trauma of the whole summer hitting her all at once. Boyd wrapped his arms around her, looking impossibly young as he looked off into the nothingness. 

\------  
The plan came together quickly.

Derek came to the Argents for help to the day after the betas had been rescued. Chris had been angry, had been furious he would show up at their home, and had been close to putting a bullet in his skull. Only Allison’s cry to hear him out had saved him.

Once Derek explained how Stiles had really died, how the alphas had killed an innocent, the hunters were willing enough to help. 

“Just this once Hale. Then all bets are off.” Chris’s face looked like stone as Derek nodded in agreement. 

Scott had wanted to bring the Sheriff in on the plan, but Peter refused. The grieving father was in a bad place, drunk more often than not, and Peter was afraid that if they invited him to help avenge his son, he would have no intentions of walking away from it. Peter had a better idea than most what that felt like.

Erica, Boyd and Cora had healed enough to fight. Isaac had been practicing to his control and Scott, well, he still couldn’t shift, but was determined enough not to be left behind. 

It was all carefully arranged. Derek staged a meeting at an abandoned mall, claiming he wanted to negotiate the terms of the alpha pack leaving. 

It was an ambush and both sides knew it. 

It was bloody. As soon as Deucalion stepped out of the shadows, they attacked. 

Chris and Allison got several shots off, both tucked high in the rafters, before the bodies of the wolves got too twisted together to be able to safely shoot. Derek thought Chris might keep shooting anyway, but after the twins, merged together in their monstrous shape, when down, the shots stopped.

Peter and Isaac both aimed for Kali, as planned, while Cora, Erica and Boyd when after Ennis. Scott stayed slightly behind, armed with a silver tipped knife courtesy of Allison, covering the exit.

Derek roared louder than he ever had and charged at Deucalion. 

Busy with his own fight, he lost track of his pack, only able to hear the various snarls and smell their blood as it began to pool on the floor.

Deucalion wasn’t the alpha of alphas for nothing. He fought hard and skillfully. For each blow Derek landed, the blind alpha landed two. 

Derek didn’t think about it. He didn’t notice as his hands began to shake from blood loss. He didn’t feel the un-healing wounds that littered his body. He just got up again and again, trying so hard to kill the monster in front of him, the man responsible for so much of Derek’s pain.

Deucalion twisted and Derek landed on his knees facing the fight, Deucalion’s claws at his throat.

“Is this you the best you could do?” he hissed. “Is this your pathetic attempt to overthrow me? Because, I might lose a few tonight, but you, you’re going to lose everything.” 

Derek looked out at the fight. Cora was still on the floor, her head bleeding freely. Derek wondered if he had found his sister just to lose her again too damn soon. Erica and Boyd were near her, both awake but no longer on their feet, unable to fight.

Ennis, sporting only a few new wounds, was fighting Scott, and Allison, who had at some point left her perch. Chris was right behind her, not helping Derek’s pack in the least, but covering his daughter’s back. 

Isaac was on the floor too, but with no visible wounds. Peter stood over Kali’s still body, eyes glowing red, head thrown back in a triumphant howl.

Allison suddenly screamed, tearing Derek’s attention away from his uncle. The huntress was bleeding, clutching her side. Chris came flying, pushing her out of the way while firing shot after shot at the wolf, not even slowing it down. Ennis’s jaw opened and he lunged at Chris, only for Scott to finally shift and hit the alpha, sending them both flying out of view.

“His last moments were terrible, but I’m sure you already knew that.” Derek stiffened as he realized what Deucalion was talking about, his voice rancid in his ear. “But he was loyal. Better than you deserved. Wouldn’t tell us a damn thing. I would have turned him myself, for fun if nothing else, but I’m afraid Kali went a little too deep. He wouldn’t have survived the Bite. Shame.”

Hate, hate and anger like he had never felt before surged through him and Derek leaped up and twisted, Deucalion’s claws tearing through his chest instead of this throat. Derek didn’t bother with claws. He sunk his teeth deep into the other wolf’s throat, the blood rich and metallic. 

Deucalion fell, twitching for just a moment before going still. Derek fell to his knees, the adrenaline fading, leaving him too tired to stand. 

“Derek?” Scott was there, supporting a still bleeding Allison, eyes glowing red. In the background, he could hear Chris talking to Deaton the phone, trying to get the other betas the help they needed. He could still feel of the all pack bonds as cold as ice and strong as steel, even Peter’s and Scott’s, though they were both alphas now. Everyone was alive.

They had won.

“Derek?” Scott sounded so lost, so fucking young. “Why don’t I feel better? I thought this would help. I thought I would feel something, once he was avenged. Why don’t I feel better?”

Peter came up behind him, and for just a moment, Derek expected to feel his uncle’s claws sink into his neck, claiming for himself the power Derek just taken. Instead, there was a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Alpha why?” Scott begged, eyes still red. 

“Because,” Derek wanted to say. “Losing a pack member isn’t like losing a friend. Its like losing a limb. You never recover. You’ll never feel better. It won’t ever stop feeling fucking empty.”

Instead, he said nothing, simply got to his feet, nodding at his uncle and helped support Allison as they walked away, once again covered in blood.


End file.
